CHAPTER 20 More Rain and Guests
“That did not go as I expected,” said Bingley, as they walked back to Rosings.
“Though it began well enough,” muttered Darcy.
The gentlemen proceeded in silence for a while, each lost in thought.
It was so like the last time they had been at Hunsford, but even worse.
Darcy did not mind being taken to task for his interference in Bingley’s affairs, nor for his behaviour in Hertfordshire, nor even for his insult of Elizabeth at the assembly.
But what he could not stomach was Elizabeth taking Wickham’s side against him.
Did she have to be as gullible as the rest?
And was there no one who believed him over Wickham?
“Thank you for standing up for me,” he said abruptly to Bingley.
His friend shrugged. “I only spoke the truth. Indeed, I felt that they were judging you unfairly simply because they did not know you. Although…”
“What?”
Bingley turned to him pointedly and responded, “It would be nice if you could exert yourself once in a while. Particularly with people you do not know.”
“Yes, I see that now.”
They walked once more in silence.
*****
Back at the parsonage, the Bennet ladies were having a conversation of their own.
“I apologise for questioning you in front of the gentlemen, Mamma,” said Jane.
“I do as well,” said Elizabeth.
Fanny Bennet did not speak for a while and Elizabeth began to think that they had offended her irrevocably.
She was about to apologise again, when her mother suddenly said, “So my behaviour - and the behaviour of your younger sisters - were to blame for Bingley’s defection?”
“Well…”
“Be honest, Lizzy. Does our behaviour truly make such a difference in how our family is perceived?”
But it was Jane who said, “Yes, I think it does, Mamma. I believe that our respectability is diminished by such unguarded behaviour.”
“I never knew it,” murmured Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth gazed at her mother then looked away.
“Is that why you told me to keep my voice down at the ball, Lizzy? Because you saw that Mr. Darcy could hear me?”
Elizabeth swallowed. “Yes, Mother.”
“I apologise,” said Mrs. Bennet. “This whole fiasco is my fault.”
“No, Mamma, not at all,” said Jane.
“But it is!” insisted their mother. “You almost lost Mr. Bingley because of me!”
Mrs. Bennet became tearful and Elizabeth went to sit beside her and kissed her on the cheek. “You were only trying to help, Mamma. And we appreciate it.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded. “‘Tis true, all I have ever wanted was to find you girls good husbands. And yet…I can see now that I went about it the wrong way.” She turned to Jane. “And please do not feel as if you have to marry in order to save the family. We shall be well…regardless.”
“Thank you, Mamma. I know it was not easy for you to say that.” She smiled. “Your greatest fear, after all, is that we shall have no home once Papa passes.”
Mrs. Bennet huffed. “This is his fault as well, you know. For he should have made more of an effort to save, and to provide you with better dowries.”
“That would have been nice,” murmured Elizabeth. “Perhaps you might discuss it with him when we return home?”
“Yes, I believe I will.”
“Although,” said Jane, after another pause, “we must also make an effort to economise.”
“But how would it look,” asked Mrs. Bennet, “if my table were not the finest in the neighbourhood? And if you girls were dressed less fashionably?”
“At least we shall have our dignity,” said Elizabeth in a low voice.
Her mother looked at her curiously. And then she said, “You are right, my dear. Our dignity is what matters.”
Soon, Mrs. Bennet went to her room to rest, leaving Elizabeth alone with Jane.
She stared out the window, her mind returning to Darcy and his abrupt departure, and how hurt he had seemed just before he left.
Everything he said was right - she had believed Wickham simply because he’d flattered her; and disbelieved Darcy because he’d insulted her.
She never knew what happened between them but suddenly realised that it was not even her business.
She thought about the flowers in her room and Darcy’s kindness in picking them for her.
And then she thought about the man himself.
His childhood. His mother. His thoughtfulness, and tendency not to speak of himself.
Elizabeth began to feel the same sense of regret she’d felt on the afternoon of his proposal.
Would she always find herself in such a predicament?
And how many times would he allow it before finally realising that she was not worth all the effort?
“What is wrong, Lizzy?” asked Jane, interrupting her reverie.
“Do you think that Mr. Darcy shall ever come back again?” she asked.
Jane gave a weak laugh. “Why do you ask, Lizzy? Have you come to care for him?”
“I do not know, Jane,” she murmured, still unwilling to admit the truth to her sister. “I just suddenly feel as if I’ve wronged him. And that he will never forgive me.”
“Oh, Lizzy, do not think that way. You are a kindhearted person who may have made a…slight error in judgement. But we have all done that. Even Mr. Darcy. Pray, do not berate yourself. Simply clarify matters when you next see him.”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “Yes, you are right, Jane. I shall try to see it that way.”
She went upstairs to her room and lay on the bed for some time. But will he ever come back again? she asked herself.
*****
More rains came and Darcy spent more days with Bingley, his aunt and cousins, alternately lounging around the drawing room of Rosings, and sulking in his rooms. Dr. Stephens had left by then, assuring him that Miss Elizabeth would be well.
But Darcy had other matters occupying his mind at that point, namely Elizabeth’s poor opinion of him.
Perhaps he had been too easily offended.
Perhaps Wickham simply had something that he did not have.
A charm, a gaiety, an ease with strangers.
Unfortunately, it was all superficial. He wished Elizabeth had seen that.
He had been sitting in his private sitting room thinking these thoughts, when Bingley came to see him.
“Shall we make an attempt to visit the parsonage today?” he asked.
“But it is raining, Bingley!”
“So? What of it? We can take umbrellas.”
Darcy looked out the window at the torrential downfall. “I do not think that a mere umbrella would be enough, Bingley.”
Bingley sighed and sat down, but not before pouring himself a hefty helping of brandy and doing the same for Darcy.
“Is it not too early for such strong drink, Bingley?’ he asked, taking a sip anyway.
Bingley shrugged. “No one shall ever know. Besides which, this time away from Miss Bennet is grating on my nerves. What if she has lost all respect for me?”
“You are just being silly, Bingley. It is obvious that she cares for you. Once the rain ends, you can see her again and all will be well.” He took another sip and added, “At least for you.”
“And what of you, Darcy? You are not giving up, are you?”
“I love Miss Elizabeth,” he responded, “I always will, but…”
“Yes? What could be more important than that?”
He rolled his eyes. “I should think it would be obvious.”
“What would be obvious?”
“That she does not love me, hardly cares for me, for that matter.”
“Now you are being silly,” said Bingley. “For did you not see how upset she was that you were leaving?”
“Was she? I did not even notice.”
Bingley's mouth hung open. “That is because you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself.” He clucked a little, took another sip and added, “Self-pity does not become you, Darcy.”
“I am just trying to be realistic!”
“Well, you are failing miserably. The lady cares for you and wishes to work it out with you. And all you can do is sit here and complain of her lack of affection.”
Darcy took a sip, leaned back in his chair and sighed. “If you only knew what Wickham had done to me…and to my family.”
Bingley nodded thoughtfully. “You have never told me what Wickham did to you. Nor do you have to. But…perhaps you should tell Miss Elizabeth.”
Neither spoke for some time.
“Darcy?”
“Yes, Bingley?”
“Perhaps you should tell Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy looked at his friend but did not respond. Eventually Bingley quitted the room, leaving him to finish his drink while contemplating the raindrops as they trickled down the windowpane. Soon afterwards, he developed a headache and returned to bed.
Two days later, the rains finally abated.
But the roads were so muddy that no one wished to venture outside.
However, in the early afternoon, a large carriage appeared on the front drive.
Everyone was gathered in the drawing room when Mr. Cullen entered and said, “The Earl and Countess of Matlock and Lady Diana Fitzwilliam.”
“Henry! What are you doing here?” asked Lady Catherine as her brother, his wife and daughter all entered the room.
“We heard about Richard’s courtship of Anne and came for a surprise visit.”
“And you thought to further the match, Mother?” asked Richard.
“Perhaps.”
Once everyone had settled into the drawing room, Lady Catherine ordered fresh tea and conversation resumed.
Lady Matlock sat next to Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson, while Richard and Bingley continued to converse.
Lord Matlock entered into an animated conversation with his sister. “So you finally gave up on having Darcy as a son-in-law?” he asked with a grin.
Lady Catherine shrugged. “Anne told me that she did not love him and…I decided not to pursue the matter further.”
“How very magnanimous of you, Catherine.”
They continued to talk about the benefits of the match while Darcy’s cousin Diana, came to sit beside him.
Like Darcy, she was tall, with dark hair and handsome features.
She was also generally reserved. And he was often comforted by her company when he was growing up and had been outshone by the likes of Wickham, Richard and Richard’s older brother.
“So why the long face, Darcy?” she asked, looking curiously at him. “Are you not happy now that the issue between you and Anne has been resolved?”
He smiled at his cousin, so similar to himself, and answered, “Yes, I am quite pleased. For Lady Catherine is no longer hinting to me that I propose to Anne.”
“It would probably have been a terrible mistake to marry her,” said Diana. “For the two of you are too much alike. Rather shy and reserved.”
“You mean like you and me?” asked Darcy with a faint smile.
“Yes, that too.”
“So how have you been enjoying the Season?” asked Darcy, wishing to change the subject.
“It is as tedious as ever. I do not know how you can bear it.”
Darcy laughed, feeling happy to be in the company of one who thought so well of him. They continued to converse about all of Diana’s potential suitors until dinner was called.
Later that evening in the drawing room, the two of them sat once more in a tête-à-tête, while Richard and Anne talked on the other side of the room. The others had retired early.
“Are you not fatigued, Diana?” asked Darcy, looking closely at his cousin. “You have had a long day of travel, after all. Do you not wish to retire?”
She chuckled and tilted her head towards her brother and cousin. “But what kind of friend would I be if I left you alone to chaperone the two of them?”
Darcy looked at Anne and Richard as they talked happily to one another, immune to everything going on around them.
It was nice that at least they were happily in love.
But it made his own situation with Elizabeth all the more pitiable.
Darcy then studied Diana and noticed that she too looked slightly pensive.
“I never asked before,” he said at length, “but how are you, Diana? You seem slightly out of sorts as well.”
“Oh, it is just the usual. All I wish for is to return to Matlock but my mother insists that I participate in the activities of the Season. Balls, and soirees; dinner parties and the theatre. I grow so weary of it. People always talking of my dowry of fifty thousand pounds and that I am daughter to an earl. It seems that no one cares a whit about what I think and who I truly am. But Mother insists that I choose a husband - this year!”
“Do you have many suitors?”
“Yes, but none that I care about.” She laughed mirthlessly. “But enough of me. What of you, Cousin? Is there any lady that strikes your fancy?”
“Perhaps…”
Now she smiled widely. “I am happy for you. And I am certain she will be quite ecstatic when you finally decide to propose.”
Darcy sputtered a little, thinking of his recent disastrous proposal. But he said nothing more about it and simply plastered a bland smile upon his face.
A few moments later, they were joined by Anne and Richard who told Diana about the events of that past few days.
“So this Miss Elizabeth Bennet sounds like an interesting lady,” she commented after they had finished their narrative. “I believe I would like to meet her. Would any of you like to accompany me tomorrow?”
She looked specifically at Darcy who turned away, suspiciously silent.
“I believe Anne and I must spend the morning with our parents,” said Richard. “How about you, Darcy?”
“You know,” said Darcy, “I too feel that I need to stay with your parents.” He turned to Diana and added, “However, I am certain Bingley intends to go. And he will surely be happy to accompany you.”
Diana wondered if there was something going on between her cousin and Elizabeth Bennet - if this lady was the one he had developed an interest in.
But, knowing how reticent Darcy was to speak of himself, she said nothing more about it.
She looked again at Darcy, who had grown quiet, and wondered why he decided not to go.
Nevertheless, she would visit the parsonage tomorrow and see for herself what the lady was like.
“Bingley is courting Miss Jane Bennet,” said Anne abruptly, seeming to wish the entire world as happy as herself.
“Oh, is he?” asked Diana. “Tell me, is Miss Bennet tall, light-haired and beautiful?”
Her brother laughed. “You know Bingley’s type, do you?”
“Indeed I do,” said Diana, all the more anxious to meet these ladies.